Santa’s Pretty Helper (Cam Show Crush)

8. Bella

Eight

Bella

It’s cloudy today, with low whitish gray clouds and crisp cold air whipping through the trees. The dusting of snow we had a few days ago didn’t stick, but it looks like more might be headed our way. But despite the chill outside, my parents’ house is warm and festive when I step inside. Christmas music plays merrily from the stereo in the living room, and I can smell the comforting scents of a fire burning in the fire place and mulled wine on the stove.

From the front hallway, I can see through to the living room and the bare tree waiting to be decorated. It stands proudly in front of the large window that looks out onto the backyard. I can’t wait to see it all decorated and lit up in just a couple of hours.

I pull off my coat and toss it over the banister—the spot where coats have been tossed my entire life. This is the house I grew up in, and even though I have my own place with Madison now, this is still home to me. It probably always will be.

I can hear voices from the kitchen, so I start to head in that direction when there’s a knock on the door behind me.

I should’ve braced myself first, because I’m wholly unprepared for the sight of Gabe standing on the front porch, bags in each of his gloved hands. My heart leaps into my throat and I feel like I can’t move. All I can do is stare at him. He looks so handsome today in his black wool coat and soft blue scarf that matches his eyes. His cheeks are pink from the cold, and his gaze pins me in place.

“Hey, Bella,” he says, his voice low and smooth.

I can feel the blood rush to my cheeks and I have to look away. I can’t bring myself to look him in the eye. Not when I watched his live show just a few days ago. Not when I held a vibrator to my clit and watched one of his VIP videos this morning. I feel like I’m spiraling out of control. My crush on him, my feelings for him were already intense and consuming, but now?

Now, I’m like an addict, and he’s my secret fix.

I force myself to glance up at him, and the corner of his mouth lifts in a smile. Immediately, my mind conjures up the memory of the way he smirked at the camera, muscles gleaming and sweaty as he worked his big fist over his lubed up cock.

I realize that I’m staring like a complete idiot now, so I take a breath and smile. “Hi, Gabe,” I manage and then step back from the door. “Come on in.” I deserve an award for how normal I sound. As he brushes past me into the warmth of the house, I catch a hint of his woodsy cologne and I have to resist the urge to lean forward and breathe him in.

God, everything about this man makes me weak.

“I, um, I brought you something,” he says, turning back to face me as I close the door behind him. He holds out a book, and I see that it’s a special edition hardcover of one of my all-time favorite books.

Warmth flushes through me as I stare at the shiny cover and the gorgeous sprayed edges. “You didn’t have to do that!” I say, truly touched that he’d remember such a small thing. I’d mentioned in passing that I wanted to get the special edition, but that was weeks ago. I reach out and take the book from him, our fingers brushing together for the briefest moment. It’s like an electric current races up my arm and I have to suppress a shiver. My nipples pebble and my stomach does a little flip.

If he knew the effect he had on me, would it change anything? Or would he have to find a way to let me down gently?

“I know I didn’t, but I wanted to,” he says softly, holding my gaze. “I know how much you love that book, and that you wanted this edition for your collection.”

My heart feels like it might beat out of my chest. I run my fingers over the embossed cover.

“Thank you. That’s really sweet,” I say. My throat feels thick, my insides all warm and melty. I know I shouldn’t read anything into it, but the gift, the thoughtfulness of it, the fact he remembered, makes me feel special.

I would give anything to be Gabe’s special girl. Anything.

I flash him a smile as I tuck the book into my bag, and then take one of the bags from him. They’re both full of food he’s brought, and I can’t stop myself from peering inside. “Spinach artichoke dip?” I ask with a grin and he nods, smiling.

“Of course. I didn’t want to disappoint.”

I lick my lips and glance at him over my shoulder as we head to the kitchen. “I don’t think you could ever disappoint.”

I can’t describe the look that flashes across his gorgeous face. For a second, it almost looks like he’s in pain, but then it’s gone.

We head into the kitchen and everyone greets us warmly, taking the food and offering glasses of mulled wine in exchange. A few friends of my parents are chatting in the dining room, Eric is heating things up, and Dad pulls Gabe into a conversation about his job prospects.

Oh, god. If he only knew.

“Hey, sis,” says Eric, pulling me in for a one-armed hug as he stirs the mulled wine, sniffs it, and then adds another cinnamon stick. “You look pretty today.”

I glance down and blush. I agonized over what to wear today, eventually settling on a cream-colored sweater and black jeans. Anything fancier would’ve been out of place. My hair is down as usual, and I spent a little extra time on my makeup, doing my lids in a shimmery gold.

“Thanks,” I say. “You doing okay without Gabe at the restaurant?”

Eric frowns. “Hanging in there. It sucks what happened. It’s not right.”

“I know. Hugo is awful.”

“He is. I think I’m gonna start looking for something, too. The only reason I stayed as long as I did was because of Gabe.”

I glance over to where he’s still chatting with Dad, the glass of mulled wine curled in his big hand. His dark gray sweater clings to his broad shoulders and chest in a way that makes my mouth go dry, and I’m immediately picturing what he looks like naked, all that smooth skin, all those glorious muscles…gah.

My mind drifts back to the images from his cam show. Again. The way his muscular thighs flexed as he stroked himself, hips rolling, abs tightening. I press my thighs together as my clit starts to throb, my stomach swirling with butterflies.

I want to run my hands over his chest, feel the firmness of him beneath my fingers. I want to know what it would feel like curl up with him on the couch, his arm around me. I want to know what it would feel like to wake up in his arms. I want to know what it would be like to be kissed. Not by just anyone, but by Gabe.

“Bella? Hello?” Eric says, staring at me with a glass of mulled wine extended toward me. I blink, heat creeping up my neck and across my cheeks. I tear my gaze away from Gabe and take the drink with a grateful smile.

Everyone heads into the living room, and I help Mom carry boxes of ornaments and lights from the front hall and into the living room, chatting about school and friends. My mom is the absolute sweetest. She’s warm and caring, and has always been supportive while letting me make my own choices. When I was a kid, I assumed everyone’s mom was like her, but as I got older, I realized just how lucky I am.

The fireplace crackles and the music plays as we start opening boxes, wine in hand, to get started on the tree. Eric brings in a platter of appetizers from the kitchen, setting it down on the large coffee table in front of the couch. I immediately dive into the spinach and artichoke dip and let out a little moan of pleasure as the creamy goodness dances over my taste buds.

I glance up to see Gabe staring intently at me, and I hold my hand in front of my mouth as I finish chewing. “It’s delicious,” I say. “As always.”

Gabe swallows, his throat working, his eyes bright.

“Here,” says Eric, dumping a bundle of tangled lights into my hands. “You can work on this,” he adds with an annoying smirk, and I sigh. I sink down onto the couch, snarled strands in hand.

“Want some help?” I look up to find Gabe standing over me, and my stomach does a flip. I smile shyly, still not quite able to look him in the eye. But I’m not going to pass up the chance to be near him, either.

“Yes, please.”

He nods and sits down on the couch beside me. “Why don’t you start at that end, and I’ll work on this part,” he says, and I nod, swallowing as I start to work on the knot. I’m keenly aware of his big body beside me, the scent of his cologne, the warmth of him. My skin is buzzing at having him so close.

I know what he sounds like when he comes. I know what his cock looks like. I know exactly how his balls draw up when he’s about to erupt.

I shift in my seat, trying to alleviate some of the throbbing between my legs, but it’s no use.

As we slowly unravel the knot, our hands brush against each other again and again, sending sparks dancing up my arm every single time.

At one point, our fingers weave together as we both try to detangle the same section. We look up at the same time, fingers still intertwined. My entire hand is tingling, and I can’t look away from his gaze this time.

“Sorry,” I breathe. My face is hot, and my heart is like a hummingbird in my chest.

“Don’t be,” he says softly. His blue eyes hold mine, and a small smile pulls at the corner of his mouth. There’s something unreadable in his eyes, something similar to the look I saw earlier. We stay like that for a moment, and then he gently takes the lights from me, making quick work of the remaining snarl with deft fingers. “There. All set.”

Once the lights are on the tree, everyone takes a break for more wine and food, and I chat with my parents, with our neighbors, with Eric. I want to talk to Gabe, but I also don’t know what to say. All I can think about is how much I want him. How badly I want to be his. How incredibly hot his videos are.

Best if I just stay quiet and don’t do anything to embarrass myself.